Realistically Impossible
by Bomba-Fae
Summary: The realistic modern day version of WICKED.


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Yes, I know you are all looking at me like I have two heads. Here's my explanation: I really liked this idea. This story WILL be finished because I have a complete layout and bits for about every chapter written. There's just a few things I need your opinions on:_

_Should Elphaba be green in this story? I'm making it as realistic as possible so I could have it go both ways; it COULD be possible for her skin to be green, because if anyone has been watching the news lately, they will have seen the man with BLUE skin. Don't believe me? Go to youtube and type in **Man with Blue Skin.**_

_ Second of all: I'm not entirely sure about the whole animal rights situation, how to play that. I was originally going to have it darker and have random people being murdered, but I'm not sure; ideas would be most helpful._

_Also, as I'm sure that most of you are aware, I can't make this story completely realistic because it's impossible, so for this, Canada and America are ruled by a "president" aka the wizard. New York City will remain mostly the same except it will have twists to it. It's like the real world, except, more fictional in a way… Just trust me. I would also like your opinions on if I should change the character names. **Aka Vannessa Rose for Nessarose**. If so, I still need names for Fiyero and Boq, and if you could come up with that, it would be most helpful. If you want me to keep the names the same, I'll just re upload this chapter with Glinda's name changed._

**MORE IMPORTANTLY: This story has NOTHING to do with current events in the world, or the war in Iraq; I don't want this to offend anyone, so believe me when I say I just wanted to try to write WICKED realistically.**

**Here's the story: **

The streets of Midtown Manhattan that had been nearly deserted for three years were precipitously springing to life, as hundreds of people made their way out of buildings and crowded the streets. Pedestrians were banging pots and pans, as news reporters and camera crews rushed to the Plaza hotel, awaiting the arrival of one of the most sought after celebrities and government officials of the century.

A young man in brown workout pants and a lose green sweater glanced around him as people rushed passed screaming, some even crying. Walking out of the deserted alleyway he spotted a news reporter gleefully chattering on about something to two cameras. Curiously, he approached, pulling down the straw hat that sat on his head, shielding his face. The reporter turned to look at him.

"Well folks, that's about all the news for now, I'm Neil Chapman and I'll keep you posted," the reporter grinned happily as the two cameras cut off. Turning to face the oddly dressed man, Neil's smile quickly turned into a frown. Cautiously the reporter held out a hand to the other man. "Neil Chapman, head news reporter of NBC studios, can I help you with anything?" The man in the straw hat shook the hand cautiously, before replying,

"Tereo, farmer from up North. What's all the hustle and bustle about? I'd thought people out here were all scared stiff lately; something about a fugitive turned terrorist?"

Obviously thrilled at being asked about the situation, Neil swung an arm around the younger mans back, and started leading them up the street.

"That's where, Tereo, my fine fickle friend, you are so _very _wrong," Neil's thousand watt smile appeared back on his face, "The Terrorist who Terrorized, is dead. Come, everyone's heading to the Plaza hotel, awaiting the arrival of Linda Uptown to find out more information. You can come walk with me, since cars," Neil gestured around him to the screaming crowds that filled the streets, "are out of the question."

As the two men approached the large hotel they were met with a multitude of out of control people. Everyone in New York seemed to be gathered outside the Plaza hotel. People were banging on pots and pans, throwing streamers from balconies, screaming at the top of their lungs, crying, dancing… The list went on. At the sight of the celebration, Neil's laughter filled the air.

"Hear that, Tereo? That's the sound of freedom!" The reporter never noticed that the man standing next to him had never ushered a smile. The two men pushed their way through the crowd until they were a few feet in front of the steps of the hotel.

"Tereo! Ain't it great?" Neil's words slurred together as the farmer was poked and prodded by pedestrians running past him. The crowd was turning restless, and the celebration was quickly turning chaotic. The farmer squashed his hands over his ears; the sound was deafening. He only hoped the woman who everyone was waiting for, would hurry up. Soon enough, a mans voice rang through the crowd.

"Look it's- it's Linda!"

The crowd erupted with more blood curdling cheers, and Neil joined with them this time.

Holding up her hands to hush the crowd, Linda Uptown was the very essence of grace and beauty. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulder in golden ringlets, catching the light perfectly. She was wearing a spaghetti strap, baby-blue dress that reached her knees, and small high heeled shoes that made her seem humble, yet magnificent. As she surveyed the crowd, Neil felt her gaze stop on him, and his heart began to beat wildly. It only resumed to it's normal pace when he realized she wasn't watching him, but the farmer, Tereo, beside him. When she looked away, he finally relaxed, and turned to ask the younger man what the little staring contest had meant, but mysteriously, Tereo was gone.

Taking a deep breath, Linda addressed the crowd, voice pouring through the microphone like water trickling down a stream. Her voice was soft and sweet, homely and pure, but held the authority and boldness of a queen.

"Fellow Americans, let this day be a day of rejoicing, a day of celebration, a day that will go down in history and be remembered forever," people began to cheer, "for today, at precisely three A.M the terrorist that has been plaguing all of Canada and America for three years, was shot dead."

The crowd erupted, until a man shouted out, "How do we know it's true? How do we know she's really dead?"

Linda didn't even flinch. "My dear people, because there has been so much rumor and speculation, so much gossip and lies, let me set the record straight. Last night, a young girl was captured by the assassin, and through much struggling and horror stricken moments, shot her dead," the woman looked at the ground and up again, "Let this day be a monument in time, a time where we treasure all that's dear to us. Let it be a time for-"

"Linda, tell us, you were her best friend, were you not?"

As the crowd fell into a horrified silence, the blonde woman stuttered, shocked at the outburst.

"I- I- yes," As the crowd turned to a chaotic panic, the young woman desperately tried to right herself. "Stop! What I meant was, I did_ know _her, once." The crowd calmed down a bit. "It was a very long time ago, before any of this- before she- before she became, well, well how you know her. Knew her. We went to school together, and as you can tell, our lives turned out entirely different… You see, we were polar opposites in every way imaginable…"

Later that night, when the crowds were gone, and Linda was alone in her suite, did the memories come back, and start to plague her.

* * *

Okay... Yeah so that's it. Please, I really hope I never offended anyone with this; it wasn't my intention. 


End file.
